


amaranth in your tea

by iosis



Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Lamento Gakuen, Lamento Secret Santa 2016, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9042182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iosis/pseuds/iosis
Summary: 'The world is so much more complicated that we know, isn’t it?'





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another year for the Lamento SS gift exchange! To my recipient, I really hope you enjoy this :) 
> 
> The primary narrative unfolds in the Lamento Gakuen AU which, for those not familiar with it, is a Drama CD that can be found floating around somewhere, and is exactly what it sounds like. The secondary is up to interpretation.

 

 

 

How long would his suffering go on before the teachers’ office block finally got renovated and his plea for acoustic isolation was answered? 

 

The gentle melody seeps through the thin plaster – Leaks can almost imagine it taking form of something warm and golden, filling the treacherous material pore by pore, rising up to the ceiling of his office and swirling around the fan.

Today it’s not even curricular – Shui is stuck on the coda for the concerto that he’s written for his grad class. It’s the last piece he needs to get done, the very conclusion, but the desired effect seems to have been slipping him for days, dancing just out of reach. A new combination of 5 or 6 distinctive chords the scientist has even learnt to recognise, a carefully rearranged solo sequence – and then it inevitably cuts off, sometimes accompanied by a muffled noise of complaint.

It’s actually a lot more impressive than he openly admits to his office neighbour – the fact that his colleague singlehandedly composed and arranged the whole thing for 6 instruments, that his students were making tremendous progress with it (he may or may have not been forced to sit in for their rehearsal once or twice) – Shui should be proud, though he’ll never tell him that without the obligatory shroud of sarcasm.

He just wishes he wouldn’t be subjected to his musical endeavours on such a regular basis. There _is_ a limit.

Shui, apparently, agrees on that much – after yet another failed arrangement of melodies, the silence is left to linger, giving him a chance to drift back to the realm of introductory chemistry and his own students’ lack of understanding of such.

 

Not for long though – soon, there is a tentative knock on the door, and he can’t do anything but send an unspoken apology to the pile of blank paperwork re: negotiating a joint excursion for their ‘Fluvial/Marine Processes’ assessment on his desk. This manner of knocking, too, is familiar.

‘The conclusion still giving you grief?’ he mutters as soon as Shui ducks in, almost forgetting to close the door behind him. He’s always this aloof whenever something leaves him restless.

‘I’ve almost got it.’ The musician rubs his temples, as though the consistent failure had a headache coming his way. ‘I even got it to the point where it sounds _good_ , it’s just. It’s just missing something, don’t you think? Maybe if I drop off the guitar and the lute at the very end and leave it as a violin solo…’

He’s pacing back and forth, like a stray autumn wind on this summer day, barging in with no concern, scattering the pages in all his books, mischievous and gentle at the same time. It brings colour to his days that rivals his love for his art - but also leaves him no hope for peace.

‘How about you take a break?’ There’s too much motion and energy in the room that’s barely big enough for him and his books alone. ‘Calm down. Perhaps it will come to you easier then.’

‘Isn’t it usually the other way around? Me telling you all that?’ Shui gives a half-hearted laugh, but it seems to have worked – his pacing slows down, his voice regains that inexplicable softness to it.

‘A break would be good though, I think. You honestly have the best ideas.’ A hand brushes the top of his head, ruffling his hair as if he were a child. If anyone else dares themselves this unceremonious a gesture, that same hand would probably pay the price, but Shui has always been different in every way possible. 

‘Some fresh air, a stroll to the cafeteria…’ This outlier of Ribika nature never stops speaking. ‘Perhaps a coffee would do me good. Would you like me to get you one as well?’ 

‘You know I don’t drink that stuff,’ his face scrunches up in distaste at the very mention. ‘High doses of caffeine – ’

‘Got it, got it,’ Shui’s chuckle cuts him off. ‘No coffee. Tea, then?’

‘What kind of a fool would pay for tea?’ There’s a hot faucet and storebought teabags in the staff kitchen, just a corridor down.

‘Yeah, but we don’t have liquorice, and the café does. Although, suit yourself.’ Leaks may be the drama teacher, but the other cat might as well substitute for him, with the melodrama he radiates as he spins on his heels, as he makes a show of reaching for the door.

‘No sugar!’ He waits till just before Shui’s out of sign completely. ‘And you might as well make it a large.’

The only reply is the laughter seeping through the crack of his door, light and melodic.

 

 

 

_‘Watch carefully. It’ important that you don’t bring your hands too close to the water, otherwise you’ll burn yourself. This is why we’ve got tongs.’_

_They’re sitting on the floor of his study. The untreated wood is rough beneath his fingers – the carpet has been rolled up and shoved beneath the table as precaution; all other kinds of furniture moved aside._

_Across from him, Shui eyes the setup he’s carefully arranged between them – the burner that sparkled green, the ceramic bowl fitted over it, the strainer with its little gears. The half-moon of sachets and bags of herbs that the Poet seems most interested in._

_‘We’ll start with those.’ A finely cut, shrivelled green leaf. He takes utmost care in pouring it into the bowl, making sure to stir a couple of times. The base for the flavour, if you like._

_Shui hums, eyes never leaving the swirling pattern._

_‘I want you to empty that entire pouch,’ – he nods towards a small paper bag, second from the left. ‘Use clean tongs, and don’t forget to stir.’_

_He’s been right to tie Shui’s hair back before all this – in his concentration, he bends right over the fire – was his hair out, it would inevitably become an unwelcome ingredient in this brew. Initially he tried to give him a braid similar to his own, but had to settle on two long plaits instead, tucked safely into his cloak._

_‘Those flowers,’ –the little once-crimson buds, all dried up and faded, ‘ – they’re considered cursed by some cats, but don’t mind that. We’re adding them for their sweet flavour. Make sure you crush them before they go in.’_

_‘Crush them?’_

_‘Here. Hold the blade just like this…’_

 

_It’s almost endearing, how much effort he’s putting into this, how his eyes light up with joy whenever the mixture changes colour, or a new scent lingers in the air._

_It almost takes a full hour to have the final outcome simmered, strained and cooled to a consumable temperature. He’s done this many times, the process almost perfected by now, but it’s always mesmerising to see the unpredictable gradient of colours, to watch the lilac petals – the final touch, almost purely decorative – swirling on the surface. He takes his time watching them dance in his glass, gradually slowing down; some begin to disappear, sinking to the bottom._

_When he finally glances up, a word of congratulation for his unlikely assistant, Shui only looks at him._

 

 

Shui seems a lot more relaxed after his brief intermission, though it’s unclear whether he should be thanking the fresh air or the way-too-strong caffeinated beverage in his hand. It’s also unclear as to why he insists to work here, in Leaks’s study, when his own office is literally a step away.

It’s actually not too bad when he’s quiet – only the faintest hint of a song slipping from his lips from time to time as he scribbles something, curled up in Leaks’s only other chair.

He doesn’t even notice the hours pass by until the very last form is good to be dumped on the principal’s desk like the redundant formality it was. It’s surprisingly pleasant.

    

 

 

4 days down the track, and Shui still hasn’t finished the coda.

He hasn’t had too much time, to be fair, not between teaching classes, the Theatre Club, and pestering his respectable colleague and co-president of the latter. He’s dropped by twice today alone.

They part once the lunch break is over, but he only manages to go through 4 more drama assignments before there’s the gentle scrape of knuckles against the door, and a ginger head materialises in the gap.

‘I’ve got some news for you!’

‘You’re still here.’ Leaks sighs at the repeated interruption. Oh well, he hasn’t got that many more to go. A little break was permissible.  

‘I’ve heard Bardo is supposed to supervise your excursion tomorrow?’ Shui deems that an invitation to duck inside.

‘He’s the nurse - it’s academy policy for all outdoor visits.’ He reclines back into his chair until something in his spine releases with an audible crack. Much better. He can feel his back again. ‘Pretty redundant if you ask me.’

‘I’ve uh. Also heard he’s been sent home sick a little over half hour ago.’

‘Did he sign himself out?’ Trust that Bardo to get himself into some sort of disaster right before something important. He still bears the weight of second-hand embarrassment from their first play as the Theatre Club.  

‘He was saying something about how it’s his responsibility to ensure no one catches the sickness off him, and how doing otherwise goes against his work ethic.’ Shui snickers, leaning against the door. ‘He can’t come tomorrow, it seems.’  

‘Shouldn’t matter – I’ve already got the paperwork approved.’ As long as the education board doesn’t find out…

‘Oh but you see, to some parents it _does_.’ There’s a mischievous sparkle in Shui’s eyes and though it lights them up from within, it’s also been known to mean trouble. ‘I’ve already been pulled aside and thoroughly queried on all the possible ‘what ifs?’ and ‘yeah, buts?’ of student safety on site.’

‘Was that Kaltz?’

Shui laughs in response, and frankly he’s not sure why he even bothered to ask.

‘Anyway, straight to the point. I t seems that I’ve been appointed as your assistant supervisor instead.’

‘You?’ Leaks swivels around in his chair so he can read his face properly, scanning for signs of mockery. Not like he’s ever found them, but still, it doesn’t hurt to check. ‘Why you?!’

‘Believe it or not, they consider me the most responsible candidate. You don’t mind, do you?’

Now it’s his turn to laugh. Shui, responsible? Have they met him?

‘Do you?’ Shui repeats, and suddenly he doesn’t look all that carefree at all, shrinking back against the door frame, tail dancing around restlessly.  Leaks often bemoans his companion’s recklessness, his tendency to thrust himself into the wildest ventures, so very unconcerned with statistic probabilities of their reason and success – the Theatre Club comes to mind as one example, the Science Fair is another; yet – 

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He scoffs, perhaps more aggressive that would be fit. 

The truth it, not once has Shui done anything without his approval, begrudgingly given as it was.

(Not once had he been ridiculed or pressured when it was too much for him. Surely it was logical to appreciate that.)

‘We leave the school grounds at 9 in the Reign of Day sharp.’ Read: we leave at 9.30 Reign of Day if we’re lucky because Asato and Miyako _will_ forget their permission slips again, someone else will be late a _nd_ Rai will be redundantly rude to everyone. ‘Meet me here half an hour before if you’d like to help out with the equipment.’   

Shui instantly brightens up at that, and he’s no longer frozen into the door.  We’re back to pacing – filling up the entire office somewhere on the edge of Leaks’s vision and his smile looks too bright in the dimly-lit space.

‘The weather looks promising! Hopefully it’s not too windy, the water is hard to approach when the waves are high. Should we take the lot somewhere nice for lunch afterwards, or would the beach do?’  

‘I suppose there’s a bright side to this all,’ Leaks pushes off the edge of the table so that his chair creaks around on its rotary shaft until they’re facing each other again. ‘It’d be nice for them to have someone to balance out me reigning terror and turmoil upon the entire student body.’

In hindsight, that sounds rather bitter, but Shui’s good at reading him. He laughs, soft and genuine, and the reflection of the one naked bulb dances across his face.

‘Now now.’ A gentle push, and his chair gives another pitiful screech as he’s spun to face the desk. ‘You know they only think that because they don’t really know you.’

 _Don’t really know you like I do_ hangs in the air, a golden scatter of dust in the strip of light, something that needs no saying out loud to be understood.

Hands descend onto his shoulders, gentle, unimposing; fingers seeking out the knots of tension that have long nestled within the muscle. Each point of pressure brings relief, and Leaks allows himself to lean back into the touch, ears softening just a little.

‘They’re cold.’ He can feel the coolness of his hands event through all the layers - has this insufferable cat been dressing warmly enough? Is he getting unwell? Did someone crank up the aircon too high?

‘Isn’t that a welcome thing, in summer?’ Shui hums, rolling his shoulders a little bit bolder now. ‘I’ve completely forgotten to keep an eye out on you with all this concert stuff. I’m surprised you haven’t grown into this chair of your already.’

‘This type of symbiosis between Ribika and commonplace objects is highly unprecedented,’ he parries, voice exceptionally even as Shui chokes on another chuckle. He’s in a good mood today, even lighter than usual, something twinged with anticipation. Is he really that excited for tomorrow’s trip? It’s only down to the bay, to test the salinity of the water and analyse coast formation processes, and there he is, almost as much so as singing his positivity.

Speaking of singing.

 

‘I’m never going to finish this report if you keep on distracting me.’ Not that it’s unwelcome – the presence flows through him, courses down his back, enveloping him like it were one of Shui’s softest melodies, threatening to sweep him somewhere beyond this realm, somewhere with unexplored rulesets and definitions. A terra incognita he wouldn’t really mind getting to know better. It’s just that he still has this damn report to finish assessing, and then he needs to pack the test kits and worksheets and tubes for tomorrow – and perhaps a compass, just in case someone wanders off. Could he get some of his personal research in? If he stayed up for an extra few hours? It was worth trying. 

‘You’re never going to relax if you keep on working yourself like this.’ The hands work their way higher and relief blooms between each node on his neck. Shui runs his fingers through his hair, careful not to disturb the braid, massaging his scalp only with the very pads of his fingers. 

‘Do I look like someone that has the time to relax?’ He forces a hand to close around his pen by sheer willpower.

‘No, but you do look like someone who really could use it.’ The other’s fingers move up until they’re working around the base of his ear.

He can’t really raise a point against that, can he?

 May the Song of Beginning that he’s never really believed in give him the strength to not only remain awake but also keep writing. 

 

‘I know!’ His desperate request has been heard – the fingers disappear, and Shui skids to the other side of the table. ‘I’ll let you be for now, but in return, let me take you to stay with me on the weekend. No more composing for me, no more science for you. If those assignments are that important, we can mark them together like we did last time.’  

Once Shui sets his mind on something that he knows won’t herald genuine discomfort, he was quite hard to dissuade.

Leaks exhales, focusing on how the air escapes is lungs. 

‘Your wife…’  

‘…Is visiting her parents for the whole week, I’ve told you on Monday, have you forgotten?’ Shui doesn’t let him finish. ‘That is, if you conveniently ignore the fact that she’s been waiting to meet you for a year...’

He hasn’t been ignoring that. Shui had never let him ignore the fact that he was welcome, appreciated; never to be resented, never to be kept secret. Part of that is what made it so difficult to accept.

‘You _know_.’ He lets Shui in on that much. He does. Part of that is what makes it easier, bit by bit. ‘But I’ll think about the weekend.’

‘Great.’ Shui offers him a quick smile, one final reassuring touch upon the base of his neck. ‘In the meantime, I’ll actually let you work in peace. We’ll see each other plenty tomorrow, anyway.’

His clothes, his hair leave a movement of air in their wake. He almost chases them with a ‘You’re free to stay here for a while longer’, but decides not to. Soon, time will be slipping into the ‘after hours’ spectrum, and there was still so much to be done. Assignments weren’t going to sort themselves out, and neither was science history.

 

Somehow, the prospect of tomorrow filled him with something vaguely quantifiable as anticipation.

 

 

_‘Do you know,’ He exhales, and his breath leaves a swirl of fog in the air. ‘The legends say the sea is not eternal.’_

_It certainly seems it now, legend or not. This is the farthest point out, a lonely rocky cape splitting the shoreline in two. The ocean spray clings to their hair, their clothes – the bottoms of their cloaks are hopelessly drenched. He’s been reluctant to ditch his boots, but pointed heels and rigid soles weren’t the best for scaling the granite masses that lead out into nothing, weathered and slippery. Beyond the sea, nothing; just the roaring of the waves as they tore at the shore just a couple of tails below where they sat._

_‘There’s land behind the mountains, too, isn’t there? Where the Moon of Day rises?’_

_Shui’s hood refuses to stay on, leaving his hair free to dance in the wind. They’ve come here as the day was fading - the sea-water is set aflame by the Moon of Day; Shui, too, seems to burn beside him._

_‘I haven’t seen it, of course,’ a shrug – no one has; ‘But yes, supposedly. The olden maps show the sea swallowing whatever it is all the same.’_

_He wonders if the sea-birds have flown that far, if they had the strength to stay in the air for that long. Or perhaps the little moth-like insects that seemed to pilgrim towards the water, at the risk of being beaten down and swept away?_

_‘Hmmm…’ Shui hums behind him. On a whim, he’s rescued one of the less fortunate tiny creatures from inevitable death by drowning - now it’s perched on his finger, tiny legs brushing its wings as they dry. His eyes never leave the little creature, but Leaks knows he’s listening, the way he always does._

_‘Thing is, they also show other lands, far, far out.’_

_‘Do the olden maps show Sisa?’_

_‘Well.’  If he closes his eyes, he’d probably be able to see the faded parchments in his mind – that’s how long he’s spent analysing them, trying to make sense of landmasses he never knew. ‘Not exactly. They show many lands – there’s a couple whose contours would more or less align with those of Sisa, and a couple more that could if the seas and mountains were to shift with the Song of Beginning.’ None bore the name ‘Sisa’, but then again, the Two-Cane were always so odd with their naming of things._

_‘That many?’ Shui had scooted closer, listening in wonder – he’s got his undivided attention now. He wonders if those other distant lands are still there, whether they, too, swell with forests the colour of this Sanga’s eyes._

_‘Some are big, so big they cannot be counted in tails. And the seas, too. The Two-Cane had tamed both wind and fire to cross the seas.’_

_‘What do you think happened to these lands?’_

_Tearing his gaze away from the Sanga before him, he strained his eyes against the flaming Moon of Day as it slowly crept behind the horizon line._

_‘Who knows.’ His shoulder twitches in a lazy effort to shrug. There were records of Two Cane flourishing and waning, chasing prosperity and heralding war, but somewhere between the start of their downfall and the Song of Beginning, all scripts and tablets ceased to exist._

_Even if their lands still lay beyond, they would never have a way of knowing. That much was expected, but still it filled him with an inexplicable unease._

_‘I wonder if there, too, are Ribika, in all these distant places.’ Shui, on the contrary, looks completely dreamy as he sees the orb in the sky off on its descent. ‘If one day we could reach out to them, or they to us…’_

_Sometimes he had wished that Shui’s optimism would be contagious, that it would seep into him little by little the more time they spent together._

_‘Has it ever occurred to you that some things are better left untouched by our hands?’ He imagines forests that never knew fire, stars that never seen one creature hurt another without need. Beauty that wasn’t made to be such only before impending disaster._

_He half-expects Shui to laugh it off, to poke at his pessimism as if it were endearing._

_He doesn’t._

_Something brushes against his gloved hand – even through the leather, he’s painfully aware of Shui’s fingers against his. A few months ago it would have made him recoil; now, there is nothing uncomfortable in the way their hands lie together._

_‘Say, Leaks.’ His companion sighs, and his voice is something between distress and awe. ‘The world is so much more complicated that we know, isn’t it?’_

 

 

 

‘Alright, make sure all your lids are screwed on properly – you’ll be looking at your samples in tomorrow’s afternoon lab. Yes, that means practical work. _Yes,_ that means you miss out if you spill your testers all over the bag. Make sure you and your partner submit a worksheet _each_ , not one between two.’

His voice is starting to go a little hoarse, straining to be heard over the chattering group of students. To be fair, they’ve been surprisingly good for the whole trip – every experiment went more or less well, and even the answers to his questions weren’t completely arbitrary. They even managed to get everything done a whole hour early – previously unheard of, with this bunch.  

Perhaps Shui’s presence was a benevolent factor, after all. Even now they draw to him, despite being theoretically awarded free time before the bus came to pick them up. Crowd around him, as if he was a tangible beacon of light, not just…

‘Shui-sensei, can we…’ Konoe speaks up, and he cannot help but notice the way the young cat’s eyes dart to _him_ for a moment. The rest of said student body are looking at Shui with obvious expectation.

And Shui? Shui’s looking at him, and that look can’t promise anything reasonable.

Never you mind that.

‘There has been a suggestion.’  His voice is tentative, but his eyes are full of merriment. ‘To pay a visit to the café by the beach. Purely for scientific purposes, of course.’

How utterly ridiculous. Although, they do still have almost an hour to spare…

His eyes shift between the huddle of cats and Shui. The kids look hopeful. His supposed assistant – secondary, mind you! looks like he’s already decided everything.

It can’t be helped.

‘Meet at the bus stop at 3 sharp.’ He barks, wincing at the poorly-contained babble of excitement that erupts amongst his diligent pupils. ‘Don’t do anything stupid. If any of you end up getting hurt,’ – he narrows his eyes, and hopefully the mere look is menacing enough to deliver the point – ‘I claim zero responsibility.’

By all means of logic they should be fine. The shopping strip is literally just across the road; if they stick together and no one gets lost, the negative consequences would be inexistent. On the contrary, he could indulge himself in some peace and quiet, as well as get the project reports out of the way…

‘Surely you’re not going to just sit here for an hour?’ A soft, painfully familiar voice interrupts his train of thought, and would you look at that, it appears that not every single cat had scurried off at the promise of fresh coffee and sweets.

It also appears that he’s made a slight miscalculation.

There’s a smaller, shabbier café on the other side of the same road. Shui’s hand closes around his wrist, and he’s never really been able to say no to him.

 

 

 

_‘Has your very first time in this land not taught you anything?’_

_The undergrowth parts ahead of them before Leaks even touches it, as if recoiling from his irritation – except he’s not really angered. If anything, it’s worry that makes his ears twitch and his heels dig into the soil with every step, worry twinged with relief._

_Behind him, Shui doesn’t seem too convinced – he trails behind him, ears and tail hung, and he’s not said a single word ever since Leaks found him wandering where the roots rose from the ground and choked off the most persistent ray of light._

_‘I hope you realise how lucky you are that I found you.’ Let’s focus on the positives instead – he did not mean to sound too brash. Didn’t mean to upset this strange cat that always ventured too far for his own good. It would be bothersome if something was to happen to him, that’s all._

_‘The last couple of times I’ve gone to see you, I’ve travelled safe.’ Shui offers after a little while, almost as if he’s obliged to defend himself. It’s not far before they reach his dwelling now – the musician seems more and more at ease the farther they get into more or less familiar territory._

_‘That was by the light of day.’ Leaks gives him a pointed look over his shoulder. ‘And let’s not forget what served precedent to our first meeting.’_

_‘I’ve memorised the way since then. That’s how I’ve been able to find you the last two times. Come to think of it – ’ Shui furrows his brow, making zero effort to conceal the emotions and thoughts that fly through his mind – shame, confusion, wonder. ‘I’m certain I took the right paths today, before you found me. I’m not sure what went wrong, where…’ His voice trails off again, and as much a Leaks hates to admit it to himself, his heart rests easier when Shui wears his usual and utterly aloof positivity over this quiet embarrassment._

_‘The path you took was not wrong.’ He will his tone to be gentle, like it is when he speaks to the forest, and the little lines across Shui’s nose instantly disappear. He looks like he wants to say something again, but Leaks doesn’t let him._

_‘That doesn’t mean it wasn’t full of deceit.’ He wouldn’t have ever seen himself revealing this to anyone – then again, there never was anyone else in his life to consider. Looks like with Shui, it just couldn’t be helped. ‘You see, I seldom leave my dwelling unprotected. No-one can reach me unless I will it.’_

_‘Huh?’ Shui cocks his head, confusion lingering still. Very well. He’ll have to show him._

_A well-practiced wave of a hand, the smallest curl of his fingers in the right direction, and the landscape before them shifts, the undergrowth morphing into something different entirely, whole tree trunks rotating, the branches above their heads sprouting higher, wider. It only lasts for a few seconds – the moment his hand drops by the hilt of his blade, the clearing is back to normal, only a few dozen tails off the ring of light that guards his home._

_Shui is silent behind his back, not a breath, and he suddenly worries he’s shown too much, that this impossible cat will turn on his heels and leave with a word of disgust just like so many others have done a time long ago. But then the musician is laughing, the sound a kind of music in itself, and having it ring for him fills Leaks with something unprecedented._

_‘That’s amazing, that’s…how…’ There’s a hand grasping his, and Shui is beaming at him like a little kid with a kuim, brimming with excitement. ‘How did you do that? Better yet, how does it happen without you controlling it?’_

_‘What makes you think I don’t control the movements?’ Leaks has never before been made to feel proud of the magic in his veins. Is this what the feeling is like?_

_‘Well, I’d assume you didn’t deliberately lead me off to the end of the world just to have to save me again.’ Shui rubs at the base of his neck, somewhat awkward, but all the tension from before has gone, dissipated in the evening air. ‘Besides, the forest reaches out to you with so much love. That’s not something you conquer – only earn.’_

_That, Leaks thinks, might be the only truth Shui has told him that he did not wish to argue._

_His companion’s hair spills from beneath his hood as he shakes his head, still overcome by marvel. It streams around his shoulders, shimmering in the gentle orange light._

_Dusk is coming, and soon it will fade entirely, but the soft glow of his home will welcome them._

_Leaks will usher him into his house and let him rest, and let the mysterious verses of his song fill the shack; and deep in the evening he will pluck an orb of light that had always fascinated the Sanga so from his porch and send it on to guide him back to the village, to cast a feeble light on his path._

_And deeper in the night still, he will remove his gloves, one by one, and he will feel the mossy soil beneath his bare hands again. Trailing the back of his claws across the roots that held the earth together, he will whisper a spell that the rest of the world has long forgotten, will lift an enchantment that has long become part of him._

_Shui would never stray off the path again._

_He could never say no to him, after all._

 

 

This café might be smaller – tiny booths along the wall, graffiti scratched into the tables outside – but it’s somehow nicer, cosier. The extensive tea menu is worth a lot more than an iced drink machine that Leaks suspected as the main driving factor for the mass pilgrimage across the road.

Against expectation, the tables outside seem more secluded, so they sit there once they’ve got their drinks. It’s tiny – they can’t even stretch their legs without bumping into one another. At some point, Shui’s tail has wrapped itself around his ankle – it’s a bit odd, but not uncomfortable. The wind coming in from the seaside is relentless – his musician friend has had to tie his hair up lest it gets into his cup and sticks over his eyes. Leaks himself is content with his braid – looped around his neck, it makes quite the scarf.

They sit across each other, and something about this fundamental occurrence is so normative, so woven into the fabric of universal laws by its countless repetition – he suspects the world could end, and they’d still find a way to sit together like this, wondering how easy it was.

 

‘I’m still surprised how well everything went today.’ Not one younger cat falling into the water, not one test tube smashed. Is it too much to hope this would extend to everyone’s grades?

‘Konoe did really well, too – he was one of the first ones finished,’ he muses out loud, flicking through the stack of field notes piled onto the tiny coffee table in the least ceremonious of manners. ‘Even that white cat, the second-year, didn’t cause any trouble.’

‘Ah, Rai? That’s because he had Konoe working with him.’ Shui beams across the table. The assignments don’t leave any room for him to put his coffee down, so he holds the cup out in front of himself, both hands clasped around the styrofoam. He wonders whether they’re cold again, whether the drink s doing anything to warm them up.

‘That reminds me.’ Alright, so he might be the big scary chemistry teacher that spends his life in a lab and doesn’t see sunlight, but he’s not _blind_. ‘They’ve been pretty close as of late, Konoe and Rai, wouldn’t you say?’

‘He’s not said anything about it.’ Shui shrugs, but his face is a knowing smile. ‘I decided not to pressure him.’

‘It doesn’t bother you?’ Not like Leaks cared, particularly, it’s just that he wouldn’t consider Rai the most stellar candidate to take care of the boy, with all his coldness and arrogance.    

 ‘He looks like a nice kid.’ Shui doesn’t seem to be of the same opinion.  

‘I wasn’t aware you considered sticking your nose into everyone else’s business with snide remarks and mediocre sarcasm an exemplary quality.’ Rai has always been difficult in classes; same could be said about his input at the Theatre Club. Though lately, not so much. Maybe he was slowly getting better…

‘I think he’s trying. He does not mean half the things he says. Beneath every word of dismissal, there could be a lonely young cat trying to figure out how the world works…’

‘You sounds like a TV broadcast for said young cats.’ It’s not convincing in the slightest, despite Shui being much better with his impressions of people than he was.  

 

‘Besides, it’s not good to judge a book by its cover.’ He’s unfazed by the way the scientist snorts at the cliché. ‘We, of all people, should know best.’

In the next moment, several things happen. One, his heart positively skips a beat, if not several; two, something malfunctions in the way his body feels temperature. Three, Shui reaches out across the table, elbows resting atop the stack of reports. He brushes the hair off his face like he were the most fragile instrument, and Leaks can feel the ghost of that gentle touch even once he’s pulled away.

‘We should,’ he echoes.

Shui doesn’t stop smiling at him till the very end of the trip.

 

 

 

_‘I know we’ve agreed no singing when you’re working, but…’ Shui trails off, peeking over his shoulder._

_‘But?’ Has the Sanga seen something that piqued his interest? The ancient Two-cane manuscript is spread out on Leaks’s lap – it appears to be a study on a plant of some sort, a plant that grew little red fruit, even smaller than kuims.  He has not seen an analogous plant in the forests here._

_‘Were they important?’ Beside him, the Poet strain to make something out between the faded script and the overexposed image. A strand of his hair streams over his shoulder – it holds a faint scent of the forest after it rains._

_‘Not overly so. Although if I translated the text correctly, the ancient ones used to dry up the fruit and make it into a drink that made their heart beat faster and set them more on edge.’_

_‘That seems counterproductive.’_

_‘Anyway, you had started to say something.’ Though the magician anticipates the request before it comes._

_‘Just one song.’ Shui asks, except his eyes ask for nothing. ‘I’ve written it for you, and you alone. I thought you might like to hear it.’_

_‘You’re going to be the death of me. Couldn’t even wait for a little bit?’  He teases as he rolls up the parchment, tucking it amongst other priceless manuscripts of its origin.  He might as well make himself comfortable._

 

_As soon as the very first chord slips off his lute, he knows this is no ordinary song. Something surges up within him, filling up his lungs and making it hard to breathe. Something greater than any force of nature, more powerful than any spell he could ever memorise._

_Shui sings of other worlds, of stories written in the clouds – of a love that streamed through everything. The song has no words, but he doesn’t need them to comprehend. To lose himself in that so freely given, to understand something he has never dared to before._

_He would weep, if he’d known how to._

_Instead, he reaches for the Poet’s hand when he’s finished, pressing his fingers against the others. There’s little red callouses to where they just danced across the strings. If he holds his thumb against his wrist, he can feel the beating of another’s pulse._

_It’s more than enough._

 

 

‘I figured it out!’

Leaks peeks out from within the halo of his desk lamp, and it takes a beat for his eyes to adjust. Just when had the room gotten so dark? How late was it? More importantly, why was Shui still there, in the same old chair in the corner of his office, shoes long discarded, his travel cloak wrapped around his body like some ridiculous cape? He’s been so engrossed in everyone’s notes he hasn’t noticed it get late; similarly, he assumed the poet had left quite a while ago.

‘I can’t believe it…’ The ginger doesn’t seem bothered by the cold concrete beneath his feet, or the comic state of his attire. ‘Leaks, I figured it out! All I needed was to switch one of the bars to a major and then drop it down to…Hang on right here, it’s easier to show you.’

With that, he forcefully throws himself out of the room, leaving Leaks to collect the papers he somehow managed to scatter in his wake; to slowly acknowledge that he must be talking about the musical piece that gave him no rest for the past week.

Shui returns not more than a minute later. Leaks expected a guitar or a violin, but it’s his very favourite that he’s got slung over his shoulder – his very first lute, intricate carvings swirling around the opening.

‘Alright, Maestro.’ He’s on his last report, anyway. Kil and Ul, the second-years, are getting 80% just because the sheet looks statistically correct enough to get a high mark, messy enough to knock it down below 90, and a 10% deduction for poor class behaviour. Done.

‘Let’s hear it.’ He’s not going to pretend he’s not at least a tiny bit pleased.

It’s not a complex tune at all – most of the syncopes and falls Shui’s been trying  so hard to make work have been scratched; his foot no longer taps against the floor in an attempts to imitate percussion. It holds no grandeur, no excessive pathos – just something that makes him feel like he’s lived his whole life underwater, and had only just come to know the surface now.

The last chord fades away, the tremble of stings leaving to deal with the fact that somewhere throughout that, the world had shifted, gaining a new axis entirely.

The source of this ridiculous turmoil looks at him, expectant, and Leaks doesn’t know how to tell him he no longer knows how to breathe.

 

‘Not bad,’ he chokes out, pretending his throat isn’t closing over, that the unbelievable tenderness doesn’t make his eyes water. It doesn’t come out very convincing.

 

 

_The world is set aflame._

 

_Soon._

_It seeps from every pore of his body, a song woven out of what remains of his very soul, and all these years later it hurts, it hurts._

_Perhaps he is wrong, after all. Perhaps there was still love left somewhere in this damned world. Love in the way his body double learns to sing for someone for the first time, in the way Konoe never strays off the path, never leaves the one who shares his burden. He’s the kindness that used to belong to him, that had never known abandonment. Perhaps it could stay that way._

_With the moon the colour of blood, with the world sucked dry of feeling, with the void within his heart overflowing and sweeping Sisa until it was clean again – he could never stop thinking that Konoe and the one he calls his Touga might succeed._

_Thinking, not fearing. He was never one to deny that he could be proven wrong._

_What if the lighter part of his soul could live on and never feel like this, to never know betrayal, never know loss? Wouldn’t forget how to sing every song but a lament._

_Somewhere down the track all logic, all scientific basis to why he felt this way had evaporated – or perhaps they were the first to go. By all means of probability, it’s not implausible that the true catalyst to this apocalyptic pantomime bore no betrayal in the first place, no desertion – just important words withheld._

_It’s too late for that now, though, and his ears flatten against his head in grim satisfaction, in self-awareness streaked with masochism._

_If he was wrong, this world didn’t deserve him to be right._

_They have dared take him away from him. Have raised their hand against one that loved the very air they breathed more than anything, that laid himself open to the entire world. The beasts they hunted, the herbs they gathered, the forest that gave them shelter – all nurtured by his song. And this is how they had repaid him._

 

_The world is set aflame – red, like the moon that swells with his sorrow, like the colour of wrath._

_Like the intangible aura of a song that can no longer reach him. Like the like the sunlight in his hair, like his blood that Leaks never saw._

_He would weep, if he had any strength left to, as if all his tears hadn’t been long shed._

 

_There are footsteps behind his back now, though he knows they do not belong in the world where sound travels._

_‘Leaks!’_

Don’t come. Don’t taunt me like this, do not remind me. You can no longer reach me _._

 

_The world is set aflame – it’s only a matter of time before he, too, will follow._

 

 

 

‘Leaks!’

He wakes up with a start, tail lashing out, fists clenched. The air is suffocating but he’s shaking, trembling beneath the covers as if this body is no longer his.

‘What…’

Then an arm is drawn around him, an attempt to shield him from the night. There’s a hand sweeping his fringe off his sweat-drenched forehead; fingers, warm and slightly calloused by all the strings they know so well. A voice calls to him back to reality, and the line between verity and dream grows stronger with every word crooned into his ear.

‘You’re alright. I’ve got you. That’s it, just listen to how your heart beats. I’ve got you.’

‘Too fast, that’s how,’ He grumbles, wishing for his pulse to even out, and the subtle light of the night lamp illuminates the relief on the other’s face.

‘What happened?’ Shui’s voice is barely audible, a whisper against his hair.

_The world is set aflame…_

‘Just a bad dream.’

‘A dream?’

‘Nothing more.’ Nothing more, but there’s a dull ache settling in his temples as he drifts more and more awake.

‘What timessit?’ Maybe he still had a chance to sleep it off before the day began.

‘Little past 5.’ The tiny digital clock by the bedside confirms Shui’s words. Sleeping would have to wait. He begins to sit up on the bed, but Shui’s arms are on either side of him, and very in the way of that.

‘Weekend, remember? We’re sleeping in today. Closest responsibility is taking Konoe to practice, but that’s in…let’s see…11 hours? Plenty of time.’ If the poet is amused by his momentary disorientation, he doesn’t let it show.

Reality slowly gains weight and colour (anything but crimson). He couldn’t bring himself to intrude on Shui’s home himself – how would Konoe react to spending the weekend with his big scary chemistry teacher, after all? They had settled for a compromise, as usual – his own flat wasn’t the biggest, but it did well to accommodate the two of them on occasion.

Tomorrow they’ll bicker over breakfast and Shui would tell him off for dipping a wet spoon into the sugar as he makes him that brew he likes so much. They’ll mark assignments on the kitchen table after they’ve cleared it, or maybe work on another play for the Club, and then they’ll see Konoe, and…

‘Sleep.’ Shui’s hand crawls higher again, up his shoulder and onto his face, and then his vision is stolen away from him once more. This darkness is unlike the stillness of the room, unlike that same damn nightmare – it’s alive and velvety, and very very dear.

‘Sleep.’

The poet shifts his weight on the bed, slowly stretching out beside him. He doesn’t say anything but the mere sound of his measured breathing is secure, comforting. His presence alone left no room for nonsense brought on by the night.  

 

By the time Shui starts so sing, he’s already slipping back into the realm of dreams.

Let the song guide him.  

 

There will be no more memories.

**Author's Note:**

> To event mod and also to my poor beta, thank you for your time, effort and eternal patience lmao


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